“It amounts to that.” Irving narrated
the remarks that he had overheard in dormitory, and
then described Westby’s performance at the blackboard.

“That certainly deserved rebuke,” agreed
the rector. “Though I think Westby was
attempting to be facetious rather than insolent; I
have never seen anything to indicate that he was a
malicious boy.—­What was it that Louis Collingwood
did?”

Irving recited the offense.

“Weren’t you a little hasty in assuming
that he was trying to tease you?” asked the
rector. “When he persisted in wanting to
show you how the forward pass is made? I think
it’s quite likely he was sincere; he’s
so enthusiastic over football that it doesn’t
occur to him that others may not share his interest.
I don’t think Collingwood was trying to be ‘fresh.’
Of course, he shouldn’t have lost his temper
and banged the ball at your door—­but I
think that hardly showed malice.”

“It seemed to me it was insolent—­and
disorderly. I felt the fellows all thought they
could do anything with me and I would be afraid to
report them. And so I thought I’d show
them I wasn’t afraid.”

“At the same time, three sheets is the heaviest
punishment, short of actual suspension, that we inflict.
It seems hardly a penalty for heedless or misguided
jocularity.”

“I think perhaps I was hard on Collingwood,”
admitted Irving.

“If he comes to you about it—­maybe
you’ll feel disposed to modify the punishment.
And possibly the same with Westby.”

“I don’t feel sure that I’ve been
too hard on Westby.”

The rector smiled; he was not displeased at this trace
of stubbornness.

“Well, I won’t advise you any further
about that. Use your own judgment. It takes
time for a young man to get his bearings in a place
like this.—­If you don’t mind my saying
it,” added the rector mildly, “couldn’t
you be a little more objective in your interests?”

“You mean,” said Irving, “less—­less
self-centred?”

“That’s it.” The rector smiled.

“I’ll try,” said Irving humbly.

“All right; good luck.” The rector
shook hands with him and turned to his desk.

There was no disturbance in the Mathematics class
that day. Irving hoped that after the hour Westby
and Collingwood might approach him to discuss the
justice of the reports which he had given them, and
so offer him an opportunity of lightening the punishment.
But in this he was disappointed. Nor did they
come to him in the noon recess—­the usual
time for boys who felt themselves wronged to seek
out the masters who had wronged them.

Irving debated with himself the advisability of going
to the two boys and voluntarily remitting part of
their task. But he decided against this; to make
the advances and the concession both would be to concede
too much.